“Fine and dandy. I’ve got fourteen names already. It won’t take me any time to get fifty signatures. Everyone seems willing to sign. One man, though, refused; Hall, of Hall and Duggett. It seems Connors hauls their freight for them, and he said he didn’t want to do anything to hurt Connors. But we’ll get plenty of signatures without his. How are you getting on?”
Tom shrugged. “Nothing doing yet. There were three from the hotel, but the hack got them. Well, I must be getting down; it’s most nine.”
“Wait a minute. Did you see this morning’s Herald? It’s got something about us. I guess they cribbed it from the News-Patriot. I’ve got the paper at home and I’ll show it to you later. We’re getting a heap of advertising, Tom.”
“Yes, but we aren’t getting much business,” replied Tom pessimistically. “See you later, Will.”
CHAPTER XII
WILLARD ENCOUNTERS A FRIEND
Two days later, Willard, armed with his petition, made the trip to Providence. He had secured fifty-five signatures without difficulty, and as they stood for the prominent and influential citizens of Audelsville both he and Tom felt comfortably certain of success. Willard had offered to let Tom make the journey, but Tom had pointed out that if he did they would lose a day with the car. “Maybe it wouldn’t make much difference,” he added gloomily, “but I guess I’d better stay here and attend to business. We need all the money we can get.”
So it was Willard who boarded the 9:01 that Monday morning and settled himself back in a red plush seat with a feeling of vast importance. The agent at Audelsville had told him where to find the railroad offices when he reached his destination and had even taken enough interest in the project to suggest that Willard see the Division Superintendent in the forenoon. He would be in better humor then, thought the local agent.
Possibly neither you nor I would have considered the trip to Providence anything more than a bore, but to Willard, who seldom traveled by train, it was quite exciting and very far from being a bore. He arrived at Providence almost a whole hour before noon and made his way at once to the offices of the railroad, which occupied all of a big, old-fashioned brick building across the street from the station. An elevator took him past one floor and deposited him on the next, and he wandered down a long, dim corridor lined with doors whose upper halves held ground glass variously inscribed with figures and letters. Room 18 was found at last and, uncertain whether to knock or walk boldly in, Willard finally turned the knob and entered. Inside he found himself confronted by a counter which ran the width of the room and behind which were three desks occupied by as many busy men. As no one paid any attention to him, at the end of a minute Willard summoned his courage.
“I’d like to see the Division Superintendent,” he announced to the room at large. A young man with a worried expression looked up and fixed Willard with a stern gaze.